


Midnight Comedy

by DanyellaSkylerSilverfire, notbug (KageKashu)



Series: Consequences [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Gen, Hashirama is grounded, M/M, Madara is drunk, Not to be taken seriously, Pre-Slash, Tobirama is tired, pre-Uchiha Madara/Senju Tobirama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 21:38:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14293983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanyellaSkylerSilverfire/pseuds/DanyellaSkylerSilverfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KageKashu/pseuds/notbug
Summary: Tobirama is used to people bothering him when he's trying to sleep. Usually, it's family though.





	Midnight Comedy

**Author's Note:**

> Shit, I wrote this quite a while ago, but I wasn't ready to post it, because I needed something between it and part 2. I have one more part mostly written, and you might see it either over the weekend, or next week. If I finish it, anyway...

It was a whiff of good booze that woke him. He couldn't name it off the top of his head, but it reeked of spices, and smelled potent enough to kill a chicken at twenty paces. Hashirama had been drinking again. "If you spill any of that on my bed, Hashi, I am going to kill you." The fact that Hashirama didn't answer started wheels turning in Tobirama's sleep addled mind. Namely, he realized that if Hashirama was drinking in the middle of the night, _and_ wasn't answering Tobirama, then he was certainly kicked out of bed by his wife. "Go back to bed," he grumbled, burying his face in his sheets. "If you can keep your mouth shut, maybe she'll let you sleep in your own bed for once." 

The dark chuckle that answered him caused Tobirama to reach instinctively for a weapon - it wasn't Hashirama. It also wasn't anyone else who should have access to his room. His hand closed around nothing, and for a moment, he thought about turning his sheet into a weapon. The idea was quickly discarded. The intruder had quite some skill to reach him unnoticed, and a sheet was a poor weapon against someone who could disarm him without his knowledge. "The things you learn," the intruder said, tone desert dry and clearly amused. 

Tobirama rolled away from the now identified voice. "Madara." His own voice was flat in a manner that didn't quite give away the sudden fear and confusion roiling in his gut. A dozen potential plans formed and were discarded in the wake of a surge of adrenaline. "What do you want?" It was doubtful that the Uchiha planned to kill him - he could have easily done so without giving Tobirama a chance to wake. 

"I was curious," said Madara. He looked relaxed. Calm. Like he was lounging in his own bed, not that of an enemy, or even that of a tentative ally. He was also, to judge by the flush of his cheeks, the glassiness of his eyes, and the potent fragrance that colored his breath - as well as the still open bottle held loosely in one hand - quite drunk. 

_Of all the things to happen,_ Tobirama thought, baffled. _I can quite confidently say that I wasn't expecting to see Madara tonight._ He wondered what universal law saw to it that he couldn't keep the sanctity of his bed intact. It was invaded every other night by unwelcome guests - usually Hashirama, but occasionally it was someone completely unexpected, as currently evidenced. He wet his lips with a flick of his tongue, his expression falling into a familiar scowl. "About?" He couldn't help the belligerence, even if it was likely to set off Madara's infamous temper. 

Madara glanced down at him, dark eyes flickering up and down his face as though having difficulty reading him in the dark. "You hate me?" It was an awkward question, laced with something that felt like old pain and frustration. 

"I certainly can't find it in myself to like you right now," he replied after a moment, and Madara's mouth twitched, fighting an involuntary smile. 

"No, I mean, why? I'm pretty sure that up to this point I've never directly done anything to you." More awkward phrasing, and Madara gestured with his bottle. "I haven't, have I?" 

Tobirama wondered where Madara got the idea that he had something personal against him. The Uchiha in general were the enemy, and Hashirama's weird obsession with this particular one was more of an annoyance than anything else. "You exist," he eventually replied, not quite able to find another way to explain over a decade of frustration in the form of... well, Hashirama and his mouth. 

Madara's stare was that of a man who had bitten into the most bitter of lemons, and somehow came to the conclusion that it was your fault. "That's not a answer," he said, not quite losing the sour-bitter face. Footsteps in the hall drew their eyes to the door, and much to Tobirama's irritation, the door slid open, admitting light and then a tall figure. 

Said tall figure made a beeline to Tobirama's bed, and Hashirama dropped unawares, onto the side opposite Madara. It was a good thing he had such a large bed - it was the kind of bed that usually belonged to couples, but Tobirama needed it because his privacy was regularly invaded. "Heeeyyy," Hashirama said, voice dreamy and relaxed. 

Tobirama cursed, and could somehow sense Madara, silently laughing at him. A deep breath later, he was cursing more vehemently. Other than the heady perfume of Madara's booze, a new smell assaulted his nostrils. Hashirama reeked of sex - there was also the milder scent of old alcohol that followed his brother everywhere, but in comparison, it was nothing. "Damnit, anija, you could have at least bathed first!" 

"Yeah, yeah," Hashirama replied, ignoring him just like usual. "Who cares? Hey, hey, move over!" Without waiting, he shoved Tobirama toward the other side of the bed while Tobirama struggled against the pressure. He only managed some kind of equilibrium when his side connected with Madara. "C'mon," Hashirama whined, rolling over and into Tobirama's shoulder. 

"No! Get out of my bed! Gods damn it, anija! Have you no sense of propriety?" Bracing himself against Madara - because no one would ever believe him if Madara ever decided to say this happened - he shoved back with all his strength. The likely expensive liqueur sloshed in its bottle, but Tobirama's gamble paid off. Hashirama hit the floor with a thud. He couldn't pause to celebrate - even though ejecting Hashirama from his bed was a rare victory - he had to follow up quickly, or else Hashirama wouldn't leave. "Out." 

"But Tobira!" Hashirama whined. "Mito kicked me out!" 

Not a surprise. "What did you do this time?" There was no pity. Hashirama probably deserved what he got. 

"She doesn't like me talking about Madara in bed." Damn those guileless eyes, Tobirama was _not about to feel pity for a moron!_

"No." He didn't ever want to have this conversation. Especially not now, with Madara's amused gaze on his back. The fact that his brother positively reeked of sex didn't make it any better. He gave Hashirama another shove, toward the door this time. The only thing saving the situation from being truly mortifying was the darkness of his room. 

Hashirama continued whining. "But I wanted to cuddle..." 

Tobirama found himself pausing. Seriously? Seriously?! "No! I'm not your post-coital cuddle buddy. Get the fuck out of my room." His voice was a strangled hiss, but he supposed that that couldn't be helped. 

They stood there, staring into each other's eyes, Tobirama trying desperately to convey just how much he didn't want his brother there right now. Hashirama's nose twitched. A look like dawning realization reached his eyes. "You've been drinking without me!" 

"That's my preferred state," he said. How the hell did Hashirama come to that conclusion, anyway? Sure, the scent of liqueur was strong in the room, but it wasn't like it was on his breath. 

"You've been drinking..." Hashirama took a deep breath, then sighed, "cognac without me." Cognac. Sounded both foreign and expensive, and the fact that Hashirama recognized it… 

_Way to expose your inner lush, anija,_ Tobirama thought. "Whether or not I'm drinking," he said, scowling at his dear _moron_ of a brother, "has nothing to do with the fact that I don't want to cuddle with you, nor do I want to hear you ramble about your crush for the next two hours. Get out of my room." 

"Fine," Hashirama sniffed. "I'll go and drink _my_ liquor, and _you_ can't have any." 

"I don't want to drink with you right now anyway." He pushed Hashirama again, and finally taking the hint, Hashirama turned, swishing his hair back over his shoulder, and flounced away. Tobirama watched long enough to be sure that his brother wasn't coming back, then sighed. He closed the door, bringing the room back to near pitch darkness. "So," he said to his uninvited guest, "that just happened. I would apologize, but literally none of this is my fault." 

Madara merely chuckled that same dark chuckle that had given him away as an intruder as Tobirama made his way back to bed. "So... I exist," he murmured once Tobirama was laying again. He wasn't about to give up his bed to the intruder. 

"It's been a constant annoyance," Tobirama replied, stretching out. The scent of the liqueur was almost enough to down out the residual scent of his brother. Almost. He could try to ignore Madara; he certainly wasn't as annoying as Hashirama. As long as he didn't seem to be up to anything, Tobirama might be able to ignore his presence. He sighed. Who was he trying to fool? Madara might not be doing anything, and he may not be annoying, but his mere presence was disturbing. 

Cool glass tapped against his partially exposed arm. It seemed to be an offer. A tempting offer - the liqueur smelled quite pleasing, almost a perfume made of some kind of exotic spices and sugar. "I can see why," Madara agreed, voice full of good humor. "You seem like you might need a drink." 

"I'm not sure I would deny one," he said, and when the bottle tapped his arm again, he accepted it. It was quite sweet, and didn't burn much at all, in spite of how potent it smelled. He handed the bottle back, and watched Madara take another drink. "It's good," he offered, the closest he could manage to a thank you. 

Madara hummed in agreement. "Your brother seemed to agree as well." Tobirama snorted, but didn't otherwise respond. "I'm beginning to think it's not well known that he's an alcoholic." 

That was true enough. Tobirama accepted the bottle when it was again handed to him. Hashirama was a known lush, but his addiction was barely known even amongst the clan. "It's a mild enough vice, considering our profession," he eventually said, savoring the taste in his mouth. He was no connoisseur, but he knew what he liked, and he could tell that this was not only tasty, but high quality as well. 

"I've wondered what would happen if I had a medic-nin detox him during battle." 

That was an amusing mental image, but not for the reason most would think. "Please don't," he replied. "As humorous as the resulting situation would be, it wouldn't exactly be in your favor. It would merely make him angry, and I don't care to deal with a sober Hashirama at times like that." It was bad enough when a battle naturally raged long enough for Hashirama to sober. 

Madara hummed again, possibly noncommittal, and offered the bottle again. Between the two of them, it was draining fast. If he had been paying attention, he would have realized that he was drinking most of it, though Madara was making more than a pretense at drinking it himself. 

They spent some time in oddly companionable silence, and eventually, between the heady liqueur and a weariness that he hadn't quite shaken, he fell asleep. 

* * *

Madara would have liked to think he knew the Senju brothers quite well. It never occurred to him that he hadn't ever seen both of them in a domestic setting before this. _And Izuna and I were accused of codependence,_ he thought wryly. _At least we never gave the impression of incest._ It was a horrible epiphany when he realized that he didn't know them well enough to say they never had, or never would. 

And he wasn't sure he wanted to think too deeply on that. Not after spending a good portion of the night stretched out next to Tobirama's sleep-warm body. Certainly not while also remembering straddling the other man - desires to torture the bastard, and wishing he were alive for it, aside - in a battle that for him, was only a little over a month ago. Both Hashirama and Tobirama were unfairly attractive, though in distinctly different ways. Also, Hashirama. That made it weird enough. 

As much as he wanted to share his new impressions of their relationship (mostly that Hashirama treated his little brother like a second wife, and that it was hilarious while being disturbing), it wasn't like he had anyone he could mention this to. As funny as telling Izuna would be, he didn't like the idea of losing a potential hiding place when his brother queried him about the source of the information. 

Of his whole family, Izuna was the only one he even wanted to talk to. The rest could go hang themselves. Traitorous bastards, the lot of them. 

It was interesting, though, knowing that Tobirama _didn't_ hate him, like he had assumed. He had even been positively patient with Madara's invasion of his privacy - though not, Madara noted in good humor, with his brother's. It just highlighted that he didn't know them nearly as well as he had thought. 

It was something that he needed to test further. 


End file.
